


Marks of the Past

by Schattengestalt



Series: Let Me Love You [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Declarations Of Love, FTM Sherlock Holmes, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Scars, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:20:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25427569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schattengestalt/pseuds/Schattengestalt
Summary: Sherlock's curious about the origin of some of Jim's scars.Sherlock's fingers hesitated for a second as he stroked over the raised line that started right under Jim's armpit and ended about an inch underneath his ribcage."Just ask if you want to know." Jim's voice sounded strained as he tensed under the touch of Sherlock's exploring fingers.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Jim Moriarty
Series: Let Me Love You [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1814503
Comments: 9
Kudos: 49





	Marks of the Past

**Author's Note:**

> As promised, this is the first side story, for this series. It's set some time between the end of chapter 15 and the epilogue. Enjoy! :)

### Marks of the Past

"Jim?" Sherlock called out when he entered the flat but he didn't get any reply. His eyes took in the black coat on the hallstand and the polished shoes next to it. Jim had definitely got home before him.

Sherlock shed his coat and scarf and wandered further into the flat. The living-room wasn't occupied and hadn't been for some time although the usual chaos of strewn books and papers showed that both men spent a lot of time in there. Sherlock smiled when memories of lazy evenings on the couch and just as heated discussions surfaced in his mind but he didn't dwell on it. Right now, he was on a search mission for Jim.

His gaze fell on the stairway that led upstairs to the erstwhile second bedroom which they had turned into a home office. Jim was up there often to take care of the paperwork that some of his cases required. Sherlock cocked his head to the side to listen for any noises from upstairs but when not even a floorboard creaked he was convinced that his lover wasn't up there. That meant that Jim was either in another part of the flat or that he had gone out again more casually dressed.

The groaning of the old pipes and then the splashing sounds of water from the bathroom finally revealed to Sherlock where his lover was. The shower, of course. Sherlock shook his head at himself. Jim was right, he always wanted everything to be clever and therefore often overlooked the simplest solution. He should work on that but for now...

A grin spread over his lips when Sherlock shed his suit jacket in the living-room and started to unbutton his shirt on his way through the kitchen. By the time he reached the door to the bathroom he only needed to step out of his pants to be completely naked. Sherlock snickered quietly at the trace of clothes he had left in his wake. Sometimes he almost wished for Mycroft to stop by only to see his brother trying to keep his stoic expression when faced with the evidence of Sherlock's private life.

"Stop lingering there and come in already!" Jim's voice was barely audible over the steady stream of water but the invitation was still clear enough for Sherlock.

A wall of steam created him when he pushed the door open. "God, are you trying to create a steam sauna?" Sherlock took a deep breath to get used to the humid air. His hair was already starting to frizz when he closed the door behind him before Jim got the chance to complain about the draught of air.

"And are you going to come in or do you just want to stand there and complain?!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes at the provoking question. As if he could stay away from Jim when he was naked and wet right within his reach and his lover knew of his allurement well enough. "It's just hard to see you like this," Sherlock muttered in reply as he stepped up in the shower behind Jim. 

"You have other senses besides your eyes," Jim remarked with a smirk in his voice. "Why don't you use them instead?"

"You are so clever." Sherlock grinned as he stepped closer to Jim until his lover's back was pressed flush against his front. Hot water beat down on them while Sherlock sent his hands out to roam over his lover's chest, stomach and along his sides while Jim leaned completely relaxed against him. His eyes were closed while water cascaded down over his face and Jim didn't so much as blink when Sherlock pressed his lips to his slick hair. It was rare to experience Jim so relaxed and almost cuddly. Usually the criminal mastermind was either a whirlwind of manic energy or a calculating businessman when he was working on one of his plots. Not that Sherlock was complaining. On the contrary, he was glad that Jim was just like him in this regard seeing as it made living together much easier. Nevertheless, Sherlock was going to cherish the few times when he got the chance to have Jim like this.

He sent his hands further down his lover's body to run his fingers through the hair between Jim's legs. A quiet sigh echoed against the tiles before it was swallowed by the sounds of the splashing water when Jim widened his stance and leaned more heavily against Sherlock's chest. No other sounds left Jim's mouth while Sherlock continued to tease his lover with feather light brushes against his cock while he stroked down his thighs and back up again. Sherlock wasn't trying to arouse his lover - not yet at least - and so he went back to letting his hands roam freely all over Jim's body. Just touching and exploring in the hopes of learning something new about his lover.

"Like the origin of his scar, you mean?!"

Sherlock's fingers hesitated for a second as he stroked over the raised line that started right under Jim's armpit and ended about an inch underneath his ribcage. Sherlock had tried to deduce the cause of this scar but while he could tell how old it was and limit the possibilities of how it came to be, he wasn't able to tell the story behind it.

"Just ask if you want to know." Jim's voice sounded strained as he tensed under the touch of Sherlock's exploring fingers. Gone was the relaxation of only seconds ago and Sherlock mourned its loss for a second before his curiosity took over. "How?" He whispered in his lover's ear and lightly traced his finger along the line of the scar.

OOO

Jim held himself perfectly still while Sherlock's fingers ghosted along his side. He had known that this day would come when he had first shed his clothes in his lover's presence. Actually, Jim was rather surprised that it had taken Sherlock so long to finally inquire about the scar when it had been obvious how curious he was about its origin. Admittedly, he would have preferred for his lover to ask him at a time when they weren't showering together - it destroyed the whole mood - but it was still better than for Sherlock to throw his deductions at him some other time. Jim wouldn't have held himself responsible for his reaction if Sherlock had tried to analyze this part of his past. The keyword here was tried as Jim was certain that his lover would have never got the story completely right. Sherlock was good, Jim gave him that but he wasn't that good.

The water turned from scalding to steaming hot and Jim estimated that he had about twenty minutes left before it reached an unbearable lukewarm temperature. Better to get it over with then. "I was five when my mother crashed our car into a tree." Jim kept his eyes fixed on the tiles of the wall even as he had to blink away the water that beat down on them from the shower. There was no way that he would made the same mistake twice and recall this part of his life with his eyes closed. He wasn't very keen on having his mind replay every moment of it for him. And even with his eyes open, Jim found it hard to push the impressions that were connected to the memory away. The sound of splintering glass, the acrid smell of smoke and blood and above all the horrible pain of a piece of metal lodged into his side.

Jim leaned back against the warm body behind him and allowed Sherlock to support some of his weight. The tangible reminder of the present helped him to remain detached from the past while he continued his recollection of the incident.

"My mother died and I survived sans one kidney. A piece from the car had pierced my side and the doctors weren't able to save it. That's where the scar is from." Jim sighed. "I am damn sure that my mother had intended for us both to die that day." Jim frowned when the words left his mouth. He hadn't intended to say that. Sherlock's question had been answered after all so there was no need for him to reveal anything beyond this point. Nevertheless, he felt the sudden urge to share the story of the years that followed that fateful day with his lover. Jim cocked his head to the side at this revelation. He had never felt the need to tell anyone about his past but then again Sherlock wasn't anyone. Besides, Jim already knew everything there was to know about his lover so it seemed only fair to let Sherlock in on some knowledge about him as well. Nevermind that fair usually wasn't part of Jim's vocabulary.

"I can't really blame her for trying to kill us both," Jim mused. "My father was a horrible man. If he even was my father," a bitter laugh bubbled up in his throat. "At least he was convinced that I wasn't his biological son, but my mother's bastard."

The light touch of a finger to one of the many faint scars that littered his body made Jim pause before he chuckled quietly. "Well spotted, honey." Jim craned his neck back and blinked up at his lover through wet lashes before he rested his head more comfortably against Sherlock's shoulder once more. "I still wonder why he didn't simply kick me out but I guess it would have somehow damaged his honour if word of a bastard son got out." Jim snorted. "A son who spotted a black eye or a split lip was much more acceptable."

"You killed him."

It wasn't a question and yet the statement still made Jim pause. He remembered now why he had never told anyone this story before. The danger that someone would use his upbringing as an excuse for his chosen career was much too high. Certainly there were enough wannabe psychologists who would tell him that he had been traumatized by his childhood and that he had to work up his trauma to become a better person. Jim's face distorted in disgust at the mere idea that his father had anything to do with who he was now. It wasn't like he had become a pathetic drug dealer or a robber. No, Jim had built up a complete criminal empire from scratch and he would be damned if he had to give his father any credit for his achievements. 

"He died in a house fire." There was no need to clarify that he had set fire to it personally, not with Sherlock. Thankfully his lover didn't need the simplest things explained to him like all the other idiots. But Jim still held his breath as he waited for Sherlock's reaction to the revelation. His hands clenched at his sides as he prepared himself for a fight. If Sherlock dared to link Jim's liking of fires - and explosions - to the killing of his father then he would...

"Nice choice," Sherlock's voice interrupted Jim's thoughts and his building anger deflated.  
"How old were you at the time?"

Jim quirked an eyebrow at the question. "Afraid that I started my career sooner than you did?" He chuckled when Sherlock made noncommittal sound behind him. "Not to worry, darling. I was twelve at the time, so we can say that we started down our chosen paths, around the same age."

Jim smiled when Sherlock hummed behind him and placed his chin on Jim's head. If anyone else had dared to show their height off like this Jim would have them cut down a few inches with Sherlock though... No, there wasn't any comparison. In fact it felt like an insult to even think of his lover in regards to ordinary people.

"I was taken into foster care," Jim hurried to get to the end of his tale when the water turned a notch colder, "And I was passed from one foster family to another. They never seemed to like me. One mother even told a clerk from the youth welfare office that she was afraid of me." An amused giggle fell from Jim's lips. "Obviously it was already a crime to be smarter than all your stupid peers."

"I assume they didn't like you either."

"They liked me alright, as their punching bag." A shudder ran through Jim's body when Sherlock caressed a circular scar on his arm. God, but his lover was much too perceptive sometimes. "We didn't have ashtrays at our school," Jim replied lightly to the implied question and pushed the memory of cruel, taunting faces back into the depths of his mind. These boys were nothing more than dirt on the soles of his shoes by now.

"Was Carl Powers a smoker?"

Jim sighed quietly at the uninspired question. Obviously even Sherlock was trying to blame Jim's development on his childhood bullies. How disappointing!

"No, he was great at pretending to be the nice kid while he was actually urging on our peers to give the weirdo what he deserves." A sneer twisted Jim's lips when he recalled Powers' carefully constructed mask of worry after he had found Jim drenched in beer and with his school jacket missing. The teachers had even praised him for helping the poor orphan boy.

He waved the memory aside with an annoyed sigh. There was no reason to waste brain power on the events of the past. Especially not when they only involved boring ordinary people. There were only a handful of people in the world who even deserved some kind of consideration in the present. One of them was still standing quietly behind him.

Jim waited for Sherlock to break the silence while he also hoped that his lover would remain quiet for once. There was no way that Jim would endure patronizing words of pity over what had happened to his past self. But pity seemed the only feeling people could come up with if confronted with a story like Jim's. As if the only consulting criminal in the world needed to be pitied by anyone. If they had to attribute his success to the scum, that were his peers, then they should at least be amazed by Jim's career, in light of his past and not try to play it down. As if he would have turned out to be a professor for astrophysics, if he had grown up with loving parents and friends. Laughable, really.

"I am glad you survived these years."

The words were so unexpected that it took Jim a second to realise that Sherlock had really spoken them. Slowly, Jim turned in his lover's arms until he could meet his gaze directly.  
"Most people would disagree with you." Jim smirked up at Sherlock who merely rolled his eyes at that.

"I am not most people."

"No, you aren't," Jim agreed playfully and pressed his body closer against his lover's. His lips twitched slightly when he felt the breath hitch in Sherlock's chest at the contact of wet skin against wet skin. "It still doesn't change the fact that I am responsible for the death of numerous people." Jim let his hands wander over Sherlock's back until he reached his arse cheeks and squeezed them emphatically. "They could all still be alive, if I had killed myself in my teenage years."

No need to conceal the suicidal thoughts of his younger self when Jim was certain that Sherlock had deduced as much about him already. His assumption was confirmed when Sherlock's only reaction to Jim's revelation was to tighten his hold on him. And when Sherlock then lowered his head towards him, Jim was more than ready to let go of the topic of their conversation and focus on other - more pleasant - activities. To his surprise though Sherlock bypassed his mouth and instead lowered his lips to his ear. "I would have killed them all myself, if it had guaranteed me to have you like this."

Jim's mouth fell open in a gasp at the unexpected confession, even while his cock grew from half-erect to completely hard, in a matter of seconds, as his mind conjured a picture of his lover drenched in the blood of his victims. Fuck, but his dark little angel was still able to surprise him with his wickedness. Sometimes, Jim wondered if Sherlock was truly one of the angels or just a demon, who had decided to play on their side, out of sheer boredom.

"And if someone ever dares to come between us I won't hesitate to eliminate them." Sherlock underlined his alluring words, with a bite to his earlobe and Jim threw all of his control to the wind. God, but no one could expect him to stay unaffected, while his lover was whispering such naughty promises into his ear.

Jim grabbed Sherlock's hips with both hands and pushed him back against the tiled wall before he surged up and claimed his lover's lips in a bruising kiss. Their teeth clashed together when Sherlock retaliated. Jim moaned into the kiss when Sherlock tore at his hair and the action sent sparks racing directly to his groin. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this hard without so much as a touch to his cock.

Jim grabbed a handful of Sherlock's curls and pulled at them while he deepened the kiss. He smirked when the action provoked a groan from his lover. Always good to know that he wasn't the only one affected by their little game. Jim raked his nails over his lover's stomach and pushed his tongue into his mouth when a whimper fell from Sherlock's lips. He simply loved to push Sherlock's buttons. His lover was so responsive that Jim could have spent hours playing with him like this.

He added the idea to the list of activities they could indulge in if they were both bored and didn't feel like wrecking havoc in any way. For now though a quicker conclusion was in order seeing as the water was only a few minutes away from turning freezing. Sherlock must have thought along the same lines since his hand closed around his cock just when Jim pushed a hand between his lover's legs. He had been right, Sherlock was just as affected as he was. Jim smirked while he stroked along the heated flesh of his lover. Sherlock was just as desperate as he was. If Jim were to push his fingers into the tight heat of his lover he knew that he would find him wet and throbbing. The thought sent even more blood rushing down between his legs, additionally spurred on by the tightening of his lover's hand around his cock.

Later, Jim decided while he moved his wet fingers to Sherlock's clit and started to rub it. Later, they could spend hours exploring each other's bodies until they were both too spent to move. Now though...

Sherlock rolled Jim's balls with one hand and stroked his cock hard at the same time and all of Jim's higher brain functions were effectively turned off. Grunts and groans echoed from the tiled walls around them when the rhythm of both their hands sped up and became more erratic.

Jim could feel his own orgasm building up fast and he doubled his efforts to bring his lover off while he was pushed closer to the edge with every stroke of Sherlock's skilled fingers. It was a close match but in the end Sherlock was the first one to throw his head back in a scream as he came completely undone by his lover's hand. Jim followed not far behind. The visual and audible confirmation of Sherlock's pleasure paired with the hand on his cock were enough to push him over the edge.

It was a wonder that they hadn't slipped, Jim mused when he leaned heavily against his lover who was in turn depending on the wall to keep him upright. Jim slowly and carefully straightened back up and then used the chance of Sherlock's slightly slumped posture to press a gentle kiss to his lips without having to stretch his neck.

"You know," Jim murmured and traced a sharp cheekbone with his finger until slightly dazed eyes opened and met his gaze, "I would burn down the whole world, if this was the only way to keep you."

Sherlock's lips quirked up in a smile and he closed his arms around Jim and drew him into a hug. "I know you would."

Jim smiled and leaned his head against his lover's chest. Right now, he felt like they could stay forever like this and...

"Yikes!" Jim yelped and jumped backwards when a splash of cold water hit him. He glared first at the shower and then at his snickering lover, who didn't even try to conceal his mirth when Jim's glowering eyes met his.

"You are so sensitive it's... Ahhh!" 

A devilish smirk took all over Jim's face while he aimed the shower head at Sherlock and hit his stomach with a stream of freezing water. "You were saying?" He raised an inquiring eyebrow when Sherlock fled from the shower and slung a thick towel around his middle. Jim was tempted to bestow another splash of water on him but decided against it in the end. Not only would he be the one to clean the bathroom afterwards but he also needed to get dry and warm again.

"You are evil." Sherlock glowered at Jim but still held out a towel for him when he climbed out of the shower.

"Why, you always make such nice compliments, Sherlock." Jim batted his eyelids at Sherlock playfully.

"One of us has to be the charming one, after all."

Jim didn't even try to keep a straight face, when his lover stuck his tongue out at him, but erupted in giggles, instead. Sherlock huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "I can be charming, you know."

"Alright," Jim snickered one last time and wiped tears of laughter from his eyes before he regained his composure. "How about you show me how charming you can be, in the bedroom?" Jim added a challenging tone to his suggestions and smirked inwardly when Sherlock's eyes widened and heat rose in his cheeks. He truly loved to push all of his lover's buttons.

"I know what you are doing," Sherlock told him with a raised eyebrow as he pushed open the connecting door to the bedroom.

Jim refrained from telling his lover that this was half the fun while he strolled into their bedroom with Sherlock right behind him. Playing with someone who understood the rules was so much more challenging than to have his partners stumble around in the dark. Not that any of his former lovers had ever deserved to be called his partner. That privilege was reserved for Sherlock alone although Jim wasn't going to tell him as much either. Instead he let his towel fall to the floor and let a slow smile spread over his face as Sherlock stalked closer. "Does it still work?"

"You know that it does." The words rumbled low in Sherlock's chest when grabbed Jim and captured his mouth in a passionate kiss.

Oh yes, it was definitely still working, Jim mused when he was literally swept off his feet and thrown onto the bed. He smirked up into blue eyes that were blazing with lust before hungry lips descended upon him again in a worthy attempt to reduce Jim's brain function significantly and Jim returned the kiss with the same vigour. He would never get enough of Sherlock. Never.


End file.
